Lemon Cakes
by MarciaRebafan
Summary: Of duty, pastries, and Ned Stark's brand of charm.


Lemon cakes had always been her favorites, but Catelyn Stark had never thought her lord husband would notice. Lord Eddard was kind to her, even doting upon her occasionally, and he was a good father to their son, but he was never quite sweet or romantic in his ways, always carrying that grim, solemn face of his wherever he went. She had found it terribly frightening at first, how he never smiled or laughed, how his stormy gray eyes never brightened, but she had become accustomed to his ways in the end, and there was a fondness in her blue eyes when she looked at him now; not quite love, but she thought perhaps she could come to love him with time, even if he only cared about her as one cares about the mother of his son and heir.

Still, there were lemon cakes in her bedchamber, and a piece of parchment on her bed, her lord husband's neat handwriting standing out on the yellowed paper, few words written in black ink. _'With my apologies for being curt this morn,'_ was all the note said, and Catelyn had to smile as she read it. He had not been _curt_, in her opinion, merely protective of her and Robb when the little boy had escaped her careful watch and had been nearly run over by carts and horses in the courtyard, with her right in tow. Ned had quite rudely ordered her and their son back inside the keep after that, but Catelyn had been frightened enough by the events to perceive the order as nothing more than good advice, which she had been eager to heed. Robb was still young, and he had enjoyed their little adventure immensely, but she knew better, as did her lord husband; had she grabbed her son's little arm just a moment later, she might have lost him to those horses' hooves, and Ned might have lost both heir and spouse all at once.

And yet he apologized now for his behavior, when Catelyn thought all along that it was his right to be concerned for her safety and their son's. She smiled still, a sweet, secret smile, as she touched the parchment to her lips thoughtfully, and it took her a moment to make up her mind. She lifted the untouched plate of lemon cakes from the nightstand where it sat and held it carefully as she opened the door and crossed the dimly lit hallway to knock at her lord husband's door. It was not often that she called on him, especially not after supper and after she put Robb to sleep, but she figured the note and the lemon cakes warranted change, after all.

"Cat," he murmured as soon as he pulled the door open, forgetting propriety entirely, his brow furrowed in evident concern. "Are you well?"

"Quite well, my lord. May I come in?" Catelyn smiled, modestly averting her eyes from his bare chest as he stepped aside and let her in, and she placed the plate on the table in front of the fireplace, showing her back to him and her face to the flames until she heard the rustling sound of the rough spun tunic he was hastily pulling on.

"You- you do not like lemon cakes? I thought you would…" He said tentatively, somewhat sheepishly, as he took one step closer to where she stood, pointing at the pastries on the table, and Catelyn smiled softly, almost lovingly, as she turned around to finally face him.

"I do, my lord. I'm quite fond of them," she blushed prettily at her own words, lapsing into silence as he stared transfixed at her, and a shiver ran down her back, something she blamed entirely on the endearing warmth seeping through the back of her gown to kiss her skin. Her hair must have been glowing in the firelight, she realized after a moment, and she had forgone braids that day, for it was colder outside and her long hair helped shield the back of her neck from the cold. But it must have looked quite wild by this time of the night, the long wavy locks curled slightly by the humid warmth inside the castle, and she remembered how Robb had pulled at her hair before he went to sleep, fisting his little hands in the red curls and wrapping stray strands around his tiny fingers.

She saw Ned's lips move nearly silently, forming words that he uttered in a quiet whisper and with an uncharacteristically awestruck expression on his face, but she did not dwell on what he said, or what she thought she heard him say, anyway; _'kissed by fire'_ was something she had never heard before, but it seemed to have meaning to her lord husband, and that was all that mattered to her.

"Do you enjoy lemon cakes as well, my lord?" She asked stepping closer to him, just as he had done shortly before, and when he nodded somewhat gruffly, she picked up one pastry and held it out to him with a meek smile, as if it were a peace offering. "They taste even better when shared with someone you hold dear."

And in the end, it was clear how dear Ned Stark held his wife, when he made love to her that night, letting passion and desire rule his actions for the first time, and leaving out the duty on which their union had been founded.

* * *

THE END


End file.
